“Angelika,” he said, standing as she neared the table.
“Sir,” she smiled genuinely, then extended her hand for their usual greeting.
He dismissed her gesture by extending his arms and beckoning her into a cordial embrace. “You look exquisite, my dear.” Then kissing her lightly on the cheek, he allowed her to slip from his light grasp. “I trust your trip went well?”
The question was rhetorical. “Yes, sir.”
“And your objective?”
“Accomplished,” Angelika offered without emotion.
The deputy seemed extremely satisfied with that bit of information. “Is there anything further we’ll need to address on this matter?”
She knew what he wanted to know: were there any loose ends that needed tying up, any witnesses to the termination. “No, sir. The situation has been fully addressed.”
His satisfaction was capped with a wide smile. “That’s what I like to hear, Angie. You know, you never cease to amaze me.”
Compliments from this man were a rarity, and Angelika could count on a single hand how many times they he’d aimed them in her direction. True, she knew that his opinion of her was unusually high, and that she was an accomplished and talented agent, but for him to actually speak the words was something of a rarity. Usually his facial expressions, however slight, held everything he usually needed to convey.
Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time when she wanted to hear them. In fact, the only real reason she came to the party at all was to inform her superior that she intended, as quickly as possible, to quit the agency and attempt to build a normal life for herself. There was too much secrecy between her and her friends, let alone her and Michael. While she understood full well that she would never be able to talk about the hundreds of covert operations, or the magnitude of events that she’d helped shaped by the use of a gun, a sword, or just about anything else she could form into a weapon, she no longer wanted to carry the burden of the web of lies she’d spun in the course of her life. It was simply too much.
Besides, the Unified Collaboration of Systems and their covert branch, the Office of Special Investigations, would get along just fine without her.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied. “But, I wanted to talk to you about—”
He held up a bony hand to stay her words. “Now, now, Angelika. We’ll have none of that here.”
“But, sir…I really think I should—”
“Miss Jordan,” he said with a raised voice, and in the tone that would have sent most junior agents cowering. Realizing his error, he placed a soft had around the small of her back and ushered her away from the rapidly approaching Prime minister. “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this matter.”
“But, how could you know what I’m—”
“It’s written all over your face.”
She always felt a cold chill run up her spine when talked to her with that tone of supreme arrogance. She found herself absently biting the inside of her lip, trying to stop the words from coming out that she’d been pondering the last few weeks.
“Do we understand each other, Miss Jordan?” he asked matter-of-factly.
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He retreated from his cold professionalism and reacquired his easygoing manner. “We will talk about this another time, Angie. For now, I’d like to introduce you to the prime minister. How’s your French?”
She tried not to roll her eyes. “It’s flawless, or so I was told on my last lingual examination. The same goes for my German, Arabic, and Korean.”
He smirked. “I’m not looking for you to impress him with your linguistic skills, just make basic dinner conversation…and just in French. You up for it?”
It wasn’t a request. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent,” he nodded. “It’ll only detain you a few more minutes, then you and Mister Carlisle can depart. I’m sure Michael is anxious to see you, and you need the rest.”
Angelika took in a deep breath, turned, and looked toward the Prime minister. He was an older human gentleman, about seventy, with thinning white hair on the sides and none on the top. Aside from his rather plain-looking black tuxedo, he wore a dark blue, white, and red sash slung from his left shoulder to his right hip. He was currently in what looked like a deep conversation with a yellow-skinned avian senator from the planet Evanelious. How a being with a foot-long beak could manage coherent Terran conversation was beyond her.
“All right,” she said with a forced wide smile. “Let’s get this over with. But…as soon as that Evenalian grabs a handful of grub worms and starts chowing down, I’m officially done.”
Chapter 2
Back inside the shiny, black conveyance, Angelika quickly changed out of her party dress and back into the business suit she had initially arrived in. True to Harold Carlisle’s word, the two were away from the party after exactly thirty minutes of agonizingly boring conversation. Behind the gray clouds still blanketing the sky overhead, Angelika could tell the sun had already set. The sky was darker, the diffused shadows less pronounced, and the air began to bite with the typical chill that usually accompanied the fall season in the northwest region of the continent. The drizzle that had greeted her when she’d gotten off her shuttle had since morphed into full-blown rain, and the windshield de-liquefiers of the luxury hover car were working overtime to keep visibility at a maximum as the transport sped north onto the main highway.
“We should be there in about thirty minutes, Miss Jordan,” Carlisle said from the front seat without turning around.
“Not soon enough,” Angelika huffed under her breath. She was working feverishly to remove the excess makeup she had applied for the party, going for less casual and more businesslike in the small amount of time afforded her.
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Carlisle probed.
She stopped long enough to glare into his eyes in the rearview mirror. With a hairbrush handle clenched between her teeth and both hands pulling up her leggings, she hoped her ice-cold eyes conveyed exactly what she had felt about the party.
Carlisle grunted in affirmation. “Well, you could have fooled me. It looked like you were having a splendid time talking to the ambassador.”
She dropped the brush into her now-free hands and began combing out her hair. “That’s because I’m a world-class liar, Harold. You of all people should know that.”
“You can’t lie that well, Miss Jordan. Not to me, anyway,” he said with a chuckle. “Honestly, was it so miserable?”
No, it wasn’t, and that was the truth. There were some parts of this job Angelika would miss if and when she ever got the chance to tell her boss where to shove his lobster tail. Though she could do without the covert operations, the long stakeouts, the false seductions of tyrannical leaders, and most certainly the interstellar travel, she would most certainly miss the chance to masquerade as an elite socialite. Even if the Ambassador of Delta III was an insufferable bore—not to mention a borderline sexist—a person simply didn’t get those kinds of opportunities working as a barista in a local coffeehouse.
She rolled her eyes playfully and smiled at the scrutinizing eyes in the rearview mirror once more. “I guess it wasn’t a total loss. The brioche was delicious.”
Carlisle bowed his head slightly. “I thought you might like it.”
Even as the hover car pulled into the driveway of Angelika’s home on the northern edge of Lake Sanders, the rain continued to cascade down relentlessly. Extending her umbrella as she exited the vehicle, there wasn’t a single word spoken between her and Carlisle before the car backed out and pulled away. It had been, for all intents and purposes, just another day at the office. However, as the rain splattered against the satiny material of her overhead protection, Angelika breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knowing she would soon be back in the warmth and quiet of her home.
However, the booming sound that greeted her was unrelenting and all-encompassing. First it was a chorus of voices, a male’s voic
e heard over the others. It was harmonious, if one could call such a string of disjointed lyrics melodious. Then the drums came in, then something else…an instrument Michael had said was a guitar. Then the lyrics became more pronounced as the beat became louder. Then silence for a moment before it all began again, this time with a few more instruments. Angelika could have gone an eternity longer without having ever heard Queen’s rendition of “Fat Bottomed Girls” and how they “made the rockin’ world go ’round,” and was equally sure that if such a world existed, it would be the last place anyone would find her.
At first, she’d hoped to surprise Michael with her early arrival. Now she was about to reap the reward for that foresight, and her ears would pay the price. At least if she were cautious enough, and could maintain a semblance of stealth in the cacophony of sounds, she would get to see how Michael lived when she wasn’t around. After all, it’d only been three weeks since he’d given up his bachelor life and agreed to move in with her.
Angelika reached behind her and closed the door…not that anyone would have heard even a Unified Sector Command Marine battalion holding artillery practice in her living room. Her light blue eyes darted around the home as if it were the first time she’d ever entered the place. A potted geranium here, a book shelf neatly organized with the classic volumes of Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Gin’ias, and Dickens in the far corner. The large view screen on, sound muted, with a sporting event halftime show displayed…exhibiting some obnoxious half-dressed, two-horned woman singing her heart out while pyrotechnics exploded around her and threatened to set what little wardrobe she had on fire.
Now that would be something to see.
As Angelika moved into the dining room, with its long antique table and matching chairs expertly arranged, she was struck by an odd feeling. The house was exactly as she’d left it, but not like she’d left it at all. Everything was in its correct place, but the glint of the vintage sterling silver serving set on the far hutch caught her eyes the moment she neared it. The set looked pristine, even more beautiful than when she and Michael had unearthed it in an antique store in downtown. It had been skilfully polished, and when her gaze fell back to the dining room table, she was greeted with her reflection smiling slyly back at her. It seemed as though Michael had taken the liberty of cleaning the place up a bit, and she approved wholeheartedly.
There was the clang of something in the kitchen. She opened the doors, hoping that the movement wouldn’t surprise Michael. On the contrary, the shock was on her.
Angelika was greeted with the muscular, T-shirt-encased back of the blond-haired man. His arms were bent at the elbows, with his hands obscured by his body. The shoulders swayed to the beat of the overly loud music, and Angelika could hear the rhythmic sounds of his feet stepping in time with the beat of the drums. She couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the sight of her boyfriend dancing—or the closest approximation he could attest to. With his back to her, he flounced out from the protective shelter of the kitchen’s island, and Angelika could see that he was dressed only in his T-shirt, socks, and the most hideously colored pair of plaid boxer shorts she’d ever seen.
Michael swerved to the oven in a smooth, masterful turn, opening the door with one hand and slipping a pizza into it with the other. Turning and popping his foot up in time with the music, he closed the oven door effortlessly just in time for the guitar solo.
Angelika leaned patiently against the kitchen door, being courteous to wait until the end of his air guitar solo before she shattered his visions of imaginary ovations. With one final, exaggerated strum, she coughed loud enough for his eyes to pop open.
“Angie!” At first it was said with surprise, but then it was repeated in pure joy as his face lit up. “I…ah…I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
“I was just…” he started, but then turned to the oven. “I was just making some dinner. Pepperoni and sausage.”
“I noticed,” she said with a smile, still propped up on the doorjamb.
“You…uh…you look amazing.” His eyes wandered over her body. She loved that he adored her. Even in her most drab business attire, she knew his words were spoken with the utmost honesty. If you could’ve seen what I was wearing less than an hour ago, you would have fainted. That thought brought another smile to her face. She knew she would never have to dress to impress this man. He loved her every way and any way.
She jerked her head back in the direction of the living room. “Do you think your band can do without their lead guitarist for a few minutes?”
Michael smiled broadly. “Pretty sure.”
As he sauntered past her, still whispering the lyrics to the song, she couldn’t help but swat at his behind. The gesture caused a little slip in his step, but he recovered by the time he neared the computer terminal. “Computer, stop playback,” he said, then turned back to Angelika just as he put on one of her favorite love songs. He picked her up from the doorway and encircled his strong arms around her waist just as she put her arms around his neck. His exaggerated way of delivering the lyrics was completely ridiculous, and she was laughing hysterically in no time. She managed to catch her breath just as the first chorus came to an end.
“That’s more like it,” she beamed. “I prefer a proper homecoming.”
“Are you talking about the music?” he teased.
“No, I’m talking you with your arms around me, being ludicrous, and melting me with your endless abundance of charm.”
Michael smirked. “I have an endless abundance of charm?”
“So I recall saying about a hundred times.”
“And yet, I still have yet to update the info on my resume.”
Angelika leaned in and kissed his lips softly. “I’m not sure if anyone really looks for that in a job applicant.”
Michael kissed her back. “You know, I think the world would be a lot better off if they did.”
“Yes, well, it might set off a rash of inappropriate behaviors in the workplace.”
“And who in their right mind wouldn’t want that?”
“When it comes to you, that would be me,” she replied.
“I love it when you get jealous of my imaginative resourcefulness.”
“Just don’t make me kick any of those imaginary women’s butts.”
Michael slid his hands from the small of her back to below her shoulder blades. “No offense, Angie, but I don’t think you’re a threat to anyone, real or imagined.”
Angelika sniggered. “Oh really?”
“Well, I’ve never heard anyone say, ‘Hey lady, you’d better watch out for my corporate accountant girlfriend. She’ll really do a number on you.’”
She playfully pinched his chin. “You’ve obviously never seen how dangerous I can be with a calculator.”
“You’ve got me there. I’ll bet your ten-key skills are legendary in the ninja accounting department dojo.”
She released his chin, only to give him a playful slap on the shoulder a moment later. “Okay, okay. Enough for now.”
“You giving up early?”
“I’m calling a temporary truce.”
“Well, in ancient times, when a king offered a truce to another king, there was usually something to go along with it. You know, wealth…lands…”
“Their virginal daughters?” she said with a wink.
“You see, I wasn’t going to even go there. I had no intention of playing the virgin card.”
“But you were thinking it.”
“I was just explaining a simple fact that had no bearing on virgins or daughters.”
“Ah,” Angelika breathed as she tilted her head back, her thick blonde hair cascading over Michael’s fingers like the rain still pelting the roof overhead. “I guess it’s my mistake. Maybe it was just my mind that was…somewhere else.”
“Oh, really?” Michael’s left hand slid up to the base of her neck, and he tilted her head back down into another, more passionate kiss. Not mo
re than a minute later, she reached a hand up to caresses his cheek.
“It’s good to be home,” she breathed.
Her breath caressed his face like a warm summer breeze. “It’s good to have you here.” Michael leaned in to kiss her again, put she placed a gentle finger to his lips as she leaned her forehead against his nose.
“I think your sausage is burning.”
A cheeky grin crossed his face. “What was your first clue?”
“The smoke.”
“The smoke? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
She removed her finger from his lips and pointed to the kitchen. “No. The smoke…from the oven.”
“The oven. That’s a good one,” he said with a smile, reveling in the sweetness of her perfume. A second later Angelika’s word registered on his brain, and so did the smell. “The oven?”
As stated, the oven was spewing out a curtain of gray-white smoke that was threating to overtake not only the kitchen, but the entire first floor of the house.
“Damn!”
Blessedly, the only thing that had burned was the pizza. After the mess had been cleaned up, and takeout had been ordered, Angelika and Michael had finally settled in for the night. As the two lay in bed together, Angelika curled up to Michael as he held her in his arms.
“So,” he began after he lightly kissed the top of her head. “Want to tell me about your trip?”
Sure. Where do I begin? I infiltrated a foreign government office, posing as a janitor. Then, after nightfall, I broke into a high ranking official’s office and stole two terabytes of data from his computer. Truth be told, he’d stolen it from a Unified consulate office on the planet Concordia, so I was merely making sure the data got back to its rightful owners. Unfortunately, I triggered a silent alarm, and a dozen armed guards chased me through the bowels of the building. I disabled four of them in various fights, killed two of them, and managed to evade the others. Just when I thought I was home free, the corrupt official showed up, managed to capture me because I turned left when I should have pivoted right and three of his goons got the drop on me. After a mildly intense interrogation, I managed to escape using a high-tech laser cutter that no one outside our agency has ever even heard of. I then killed the official and his three men, and then jumped on a shuttle bound for Third Earth. There was a small cocktail party, but now I’m home.
Traitor Winds - Kestrel Saga: Vol. 0 (Kestrel Saga - Origins) Page 3
